Now the Fat-Bellied Beetches had bellies with fat.
The Fit-Bellied Beetches would have none of that.
Those bellies were different, of such different sizes.
You wouldn’t believe if you saw with both eye-es.
The Fat-Bellied Beetches had stretch-marky scars.
The Fit-Belly Beetches had none upon thars.
But because of those bellies, the Fat-Bellied Beeches
Would vow to do better with I’ll-do-better speeches.
They wanted to have much tighter tummies,
But had trouble saying “no” to the yumtastic yummies.
Because they were fat, all the Fat-Belly Beetches
Would cry, “Our asses are too big for our breeches.”
With their heads hanging low, they would sniffle out loud
,
“We wish we could be like the Fit-Belly crowd!”
Well, the Fit Belly Beetches did 900 crunches
,
Followed by torso twists in rather large bunches
.
Yes, the Fit-Belly Beetches worked hard on their figures
.
Much harder, it seemed, than their Fat-Bellied sisters.
Was that the reason for their outward aesthetics,
Or was it some fluke with some lucky genetics?
Well, ONE day, it seems that the Fat-Belly Beetches
Were moping and doping in their too-little breetches,
Just sitting there wishing their bellies were flatter,
A stranger popped in who seemed mad as a hatter!
“My friends,” he announced in a voice gruff and gritty.
“My name is Sir Franklin McJackson McSh*tty.
And they tell me you’re sick of your body like putty.
I can fix you right up. I’m your Fix-You-Up buddy.
I’ve come here to help you,
and help you I might
.
I think I can help get your tummies more tight.
It may not work for you, but the price is sure right.”
Then, quickly Sir Franklin McJackson McSh*tty
Tried to steer those Beeches out of Obese City.
And he said, “You want fab abs like a Fit-Bellied Beetch?
It’ll take lots of work, but it’s not out of reach!”
Just start exercising and eating less crap!
And download this downloadable sit-up counting app.
"
So they started to change, they started to work
,
If only to shut up that McSh*tty jerk.
They began to work out, they did crunches in bunches.
They wised up and prepared low-calorie lunches.
And after a few months, they felt way less famished
,
And those bellies of theirs had started to vanish.
Then they yelled at the ones who were fit long ago,
“You’re not the only Beetch who’s a Fit-Bellied Ho!”
They danced and they pranced and they strutted their stuff.
They were proud of themselves though the going was tough.
And when the Fit-Bellied Beetches returned from their runs,
They couldn’t distinguish themselves from the Fat-Bellied ones.
Then up came McSh*tty with a rather sly wink.
And he said, “Things are not quite as bad as you think.
So you don’t know who’s who. Things are mixed-up.
I can help you get everything fixed up.
If you do what I say, practice what I preaches.
I can turn you into Fat-Bellied Beetches!
For 10 bucks I can help you double your waist line.
So step right on up, let’s nobody waste time.
“Belly fat,” said the Beetches, “Is no longer in style.
We like to be fit,” they all said with a smile.
“And if others are fit, too, well that’s all well and good.
In fact, we wish that everyone could!”
Then Sir Franklin McSh*tty got just a bit pissed,
And griped about all of the profits he missed.
The Fix-You-Up Buddy’s plot to great wealth,
Couldn’t compete with the love of good health.
And he frowned as he drove, screaming at each,
“I never will learn that you can’t trust a Beetch!”
That McSh*tty was wrong should just go without saying,
And being fit is so much healthier than buffeting.
Yes, they decided that healthy living is best,
And helps you love your body (especially undressed).
Now all those Beetches reach for the stars,
And try to get rid of the belly fat upon thars.
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